To Absolve a Stone
by Caprichoso
Summary: When Silas Stone comes to Jump City with shocking news, Cyborg must decide whether past wounds are too deep to forgive. Rated for language and adult themes.
1. Coffee and a Bomb

**AN:** This will be the first multi-chapter fic I've undertaken since I had to abandon A Bottle Can't Hold You, years ago. I still regret that and have been toying with some possible endings... but what you should know is that this story is complete, and only needs polishing. I won't leave another story orphaned. Enjoy the ride!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Duh.

**Chapter 1: Coffee and a Bomb**

As in any communal living situation, certain duties in Titan Tower fell to the parties best equipped to handle them. For example, ever since the Incident, neither Beast Boy nor Starfire was allowed to do laundry unsupervised, but they made up for this by handling dish duty most of the time. Hence, security for the Tower was handled by the team member who could seamlessly integrate the perimeter alarms and security footage into his brain.

It was Cyborg, therefore, who was jolted from a sound sleep at 5 AM on Saturday by a proximity alert for a very small, low-flying aircraft. Little more than a flight suit with a helicopter rotor for propulsion, the design did not register in any database, but it bore the insignia of S.T.A.R. Labs.

Powering up his weapons and making a beeline for the front door, Cyborg watched through his cybernetic eye as the figure piloting the craft came to a stop outside the Tower in lieu of landing on the helipad.

A metal finger jabbed the intercom, broadcasting to the speaker system on the Tower's perimeter. "Titan Tower is a restricted area. Identify yourself."

Unbuckling the straps that attached him to the propulsion system and letting the apparatus slide gently to the ground, the pilot reached up and removed his helmet.

"Silas Stone, but I prefer 'Dad'." The silver-haired man standing on the rocky shore shifted from foot to foot. "It's good to hear your voice, Victor."

Cyborg froze, paralyzed by shock. His cybernetic components dutifully recorded twenty-six seconds, but his human brain was unable to process them.

"I have some things to say, but I'd much rather say them face to face if it's all the same to you," Silas said, snapping Cyborg from his reverie.

Numb, the metal man hit the button to open the front door, then depressed the intercom. It buzzed for a few seconds before he managed speech. "Elevator to the top floor."

A thirty-second eternity passed, and the door opened to reveal his estranged father in the flesh.

They stood staring at each other, unsure of anything and everything. The elevator door began to close, and Silas scrambled out into the common room just in time.

Victor flailed for something to say, casting aside countless options until he arrived at the last resort. "Coffee?"

The older man nodded, visibly relieved.

Cyborg was hardly one for coffee most days, and he couldn't remember ever having seen his father drink it, but the ritual of preparation was a momentary reprieve for both of them. The clicking gurgle of boiling water filled the silence, and while it lasted, there was no need for words.

There were only two clean mugs in the kitchen: a hollowed-out bust of Poe with a handle that had been Raven's last Christmas gift from Beast Boy, and a somewhat lopsided but lovingly-crafted piece that Starfire had made for Robin. The former went to Silas. Childish as it might have been, Victor didn't trust his father with anything of sentimental value.

Hundreds of questions swirled through Victor's head, each answered in thousands of combinations by his CPU. He would be prepared for anything his father had to say. He would show no weakness to the man who had ruined his life.

But a computer, however advanced, can never fully predict life.

Before Victor could slip a question off of his suddenly cumbersome tongue, Silas Stone blurted out three words his son had never imagined.

"I have cancer."


	2. The Explosion

**Chapter 2: The Explosion**

Victor stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak.

"Sorry for being so abrupt; I knew I'd never get that out if I didn't just say it right away." Running a hand over his head, Silas continued. "The cancer apparently started in my pancreas years ago, but I didn't have any symptoms, so I didn't even think to check. Now it's spread to my liver and lungs. They're projecting it may go to my bones next. It's inoperable, by virtue of how many organs are compromised and how thoroughly."

Cyborg couldn't move, couldn't seem to summon up words to fill his open mouth. He blinked, then blinked, then again.

Silas raised a hand, reaching out to his son. "Victor, say something. Please. Anything."

Bile rose in the back of Cyborg's throat, and the first words that came to mind were bred from it. "What do you want me to say, old man? Congratulations?"

His father's hand dropped back to his side, and hurt clouded his features. "Son, I-"

"What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here? You show up and say cancer, and all of a sudden I'm supposed to forget everything you did?"

"No, I-"

"Why don't you just replace it all with some nuts and bolts you have lying around the lab? God knows you were only too happy to load me up with everything you were working on, and I'm sure you've got even better tech by now."

There was a moment's pause before Silas apparently realized it wasn't a rhetorical question. "The thought had occurred to me, but I don't think I should make that decision."

"What?"

The inventor looked down into his coffee, unwilling to meet his son's gaze. "I... I realize now that you never had a choice as to what your mother and I did. After the accident. And that was wrong. So... the only way I can think to make it right is to give you a choice now."

As his father's words sank in, Victor's fist clenched, shattering the cup he held in his hand and showering his arm with liquid. Robin's cup. Starfire would just have to understand. "You manipulative _bastard_. This is too fucking low, even for you."

"I'm just saying—"

"That I can either sign your death warrant or turn you into Cyborg Senior? Jesus, Silas. Really?" Victor shook the coffee off of his hand with all the disdain and vehemence he could muster.

"Y'know, I liked when you used to call me Dad—"

"And I liked when I used to be human! Things _change_, old man."

"I... I know I've messed up, and I'm grasping at straws trying to figure this all out. I just want my son back, Victor."

"So you figure you'll get me back because we'll either be half-robot buddies, or I'll just drop everything to care for my poor, ailing father?" Cyborg snorted. "Win-win for you. I can tell you gave this some thought."

Slamming his fist on the table, Silas used the impetus to launch himself to his feet. "Dammit, Vic, I haven't thought about it at all! That's why this is all coming out wrong." With a shuddering breath, he sat again. "I got the news yesterday evening. I packed a suitcase and took a standby on the first flight to Jump I could get. I have no clue what I'm doing here." A shaky hand ran circles around the rim of his coffee mug. "I thought I'd have years more to get the words right to tell you how sorry I am... probably would have taken forever and they still wouldn't be good enough. But now that I have a very finite, very small number to work with... I just have to try."

"You tried. You failed. Now _leave_. Make your own choice and leave me out of it." Cyborg's voice was ice.

Silas opened his mouth to say something, then bit back the words with an effort that closed his eyes. A nod, and he stood.

Cyborg walked behind his father all the way to the elevator, arms folded over his chest.

As the door swished open, Silas turned, summoning one last bit of courage. He rooted around in his pocket for a moment, producing a business card. "This has my personal number on the back. I'm at the little hotel overlooking the park. If..." He stopped, swallowed, tried again. "If you change your mind... call me. Please."

Victor did not uncross his arms to take the card. It fluttered to the floor, and the elevator closed, carrying Silas Stone down and out of the Tower.

**AN:** I've been afraid to post this story, as it hits so close to home for so many of us. I hope to handle the details and themes appropriately, but the focus will not be on the disease so much as on the relationship between Victor and Silas.

Also, on a canon-juggling note, Victor's past in the Teen Titans Go comics mention his mother being part of his operation, while in The End it's mentioned by his evil clone that he has no mother, which leads me to believe the event that took her life occurred while Cyborg was away. I'll be going into this a bit more in a few chapters.


	3. Damage Control

**Chapter 3: Damage Control**

"I can't fucking believe this!" Cyborg said, storming through the open door to Beast Boy's room and immediately setting up a circuit to pace. "After all this time, he shows up and expects me to suddenly care if he lives or dies?"

His green friend, clad only in boxers and his ever-present gloves, nodded from the lower bunk bed, where he lay with a comic book on his stomach. "Morning, Cy. Come on in. Yes, I slept well, thanks for asking. And you?"

"Don't start with me, Beast Boy. Not now."

"All right, calm down," the shapeshifter said. "I know it was a big shock, but yelling at me isn't going to do either of us any good."

Cyborg lurched to a halt, fists balled, and began taking deep breaths. When he had regained a modicum of control, he came to a sickening realization. "Oh god. You heard us."

His best friend quirked the corner of his mouth and bobbled his head. "Kinda hard not to, what with all the yelling at 5:30 in the morning, especially since my ears are sharper than most. Figured you'd need to vent, so I opened up my door. I'd bet the others heard at least some of it too."

Embarrassment wormed at Cyborg, clawing into his gut. He stared at the floor, wishing he had Raven's powers so that he could disappear into it. This was too personal, too private to have it exposed to the whole team. Just Beast Boy might be one thing, but everyone at once?

"Stop that."

Cyborg's head snapped up. "Huh?"

"It's going to be okay. Your secrets are always safe with us, Cy. You _know_ that. Stop worrying."

The mechanical man blinked. "You sure you're not developing telepathy?"

Beast Boy's eyes twinkled. "What kind of best friend would I be if I needed powers to know what you're thinking?"

Despite his foul mood, Cyborg smiled.

"That's better." Swinging his legs out of bed, Beast Boy sat up. "Now. Let's talk about this rationally. Your dad wants to apologize and fix things up—"

"And there is no way in _hell_ that's going to happen." Victor crossed his arms over his chest. His mechanical arms. Mechanical chest. What hadn't his father ruined?

"Granted, there's a lot to fix, and it won't happen all at once..." The green boy shrugged, almost apologetic.

Victor made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat. "You don't have any clue what it's like, B! To be turned into a—"

"Complete freak of nature by a parent desperately trying to save your life?" A strange mix of emotions shone in his friend's eyes. "I think if there's anyone else in the world who gets that, it's me. I've accepted it and moved on. Next excuse."

Africa. Monkey bite. Sakutia. The Logans' cure and the side effects. For a second, he'd forgotten how alike he and his little green buddy were. Cyborg's mouth worked furiously, but no sound came forth.

After a moment, Beast Boy let out a sigh. "Look, Vic, he's your dad, and he's making an honest attempt to make things right. I would give _anything_ for the chance to see my dad again. But I know you well enough to know you won't listen to me on this, so... talk with someone else about it. Maybe start with Starfire."

"You're kidding, right? She'd forgive anyone for anything in a heartbeat."

The green boy gave a sad, slow nod. "Yup. And of all of us, she's had probably the most unforgivable things done to her. Quality and quantity."

Victor raised his one remaining eyebrow. "We're talking about the same Starfire, right? Orange, alien warrior princess, loves foods even weirder than your tofu?"

"Yup."

"You can't be serious, B. She gets all teary-eyed and sentimental when we remember to bring back a jug of mustard from the grocery store."

Beast Boy drew up one corner of his mouth in a humorless smile. "Have you ever considered that might be because no one's _ever _been good to her in her entire life without a hidden motive?"

Victor froze. No, it fit far too well with the pattern. There was no way he could have missed something so glaringly obvious. Could he?

A shifting sound brought his attention back to his best friend, who was now toying with a jar of murky water, an odd expression on his face. "Look, Vic, just go talk with her. Listen to what she has to say, and I mean really listen. It'll help put some things in perspective for you."

"All right. And... Beast Boy?"

The green boy looked up.

"Thanks. Even if I'm too stubborn to accept advice right now, I still appreciate it."

The youngest Titan's lopsided grin didn't quite reach his eyes. "Anytime, Cy."

**AN:** The Jar is a nod to Jarec's masterful series beginning with The Joker's Wild. The object in question appears in Titanomachy, the third installment, and its reason for causing BB distress will become clear after you read that. I can't recommend the series enough, so go read the whole thing and drop him a line.

Also, after a review by deathdeathdeath, I added a bit to make sure it's clear that BB and Cyborg are very familiar with one another's pasts. After all, what are campfire stories for (Teen Titans Go #45)? I won't be going into anyone's history too heavily in this, but the information is out there, and I'm more than happy to point you to the sources for my own research.


	4. Picking up the Pieces

**Chapter 4: Picking up the Pieces**

It was almost seven by the time Cyborg mustered the courage to walk through Starfire's door, and only then because she had heard him pacing outside for several minutes and called for him to enter.

Seated on her bed, the Tamaranean gave him a gentle smile. "I greet you, Friend Cyborg. I would wish you a glorious morning, but I do not believe it has been so glorious for you thus far."

Cyborg tried for a chuckle, but it came out as a weak cough. "Yeah, got that right." It was then that he noticed what was in her hands. "Oh my god, Star, I'm so sorry. I didn't—"

"There is no damage so great that it cannot be repaired, my friend," the princess said, carefully piecing together Robin's shattered mug with epoxy. "In time, the cracks will dry and become even stronger than the cup was when it was whole."

The gigantic man flushed. "Why do I get the feeling you're going for an analogy here?"

Starfire set the mug aside on the floor. "I must apologize for having done the dropping of eaves on you, my friend, but when I heard shouting I came out of my room to help you defend our home... until I realized that only something I cannot protect was in danger."

Victor tilted his head. "Which is?"

"Your heart."

A clammy fist clenched around Cyborg's stomach. "I... I'll be fine. It's not like it matters what he does with his life; he's been dead to me for years."

"And yet you are here." Her voice was tender, but there was a firmness to it that would not let him escape.

"Yeah," he admitted after a reluctant silence. "So... what do I do?"

"Friend Cyborg, you already know I will say to forgive him. That is not why you have come to me. What you are looking for is the reason _why_ you should forgive him. On Tamaran, we have a saying: 'Stronger than the mucus of the Grokthar Beast is the bond of family.'"

Cyborg blinked. "Ooooookay..."

With a little growl, Starfire reached for a stack of papers that lay beside her bed and began shuffling through them at lightning speed. "One moment, dear friend. I have been working with paremiology experts in America and on Tamaran to compile a list of comparable proverbs. It has been... challenging at times. We are currently struggling with, 'being nice don't cost a thing,' as the closest word to 'nice' is _rutha_, weak, and weakness is very costly to a warrior race such as..."

The princess trailed off and slammed a finger onto the paper with a triumphant cry, punching a hole straight through the stack below. With a sheepish grin, she extracted the digit and read from the paper. "Blood is thicker than water." She beamed at him and nodded, as though this suddenly explained everything.

Victor shifted from foot to foot, trying to summon up all his tact. "Well, Star, that's informative and all, but... you know Earth sayings aren't magic words or anything, right?"

Deflating, the orange girl gave him a weak smile. "Nor for us, my friend. I was merely being selfish in hoping..." She patted the bed beside her. "Please, sit quietly, and do not speak until I have finished. I do not like to tell this story, and it becomes difficult to continue if I am distracted or interrupted."

Victor obliged, careful to let his weight down slowly so as not to bounce his teammate off of her own bed. A glance in her direction showed a much different Starfire from the one he was used to seeing.

Eyes closed, fists clenched to trembling, she took in several deep breaths before she began to speak. "You know some of my history with my sister, Blackfire, but I have not spoken to you of my father. Not Galfore, my _k'norfka_, but my biological father, Myand'r."

The next half hour led Cyborg through the gamut of disbelief, rage, sorrow, and awe at this remarkable, sweet girl who had emerged from such horrible treatment only to freely give second chances to any who asked. Even after Beast Boy's warning, nothing could have made him suspect the extent of the betrayal she had faced in her short life.

Eventually, her story completed, Starfire let herself break down and weep openly, exhausted from the rekindling of painful memories.

"And after... all that," he said, trying to maintain his composure as he stroked his friend's back, feeling the sobs that shook her grow smaller, "You would still forgive him." It was a statement of an unbelievable fact; never a question.

Starfire sniffled and pulled away from his embrace, not bothering to wipe away the tears on her face as she looked into his eyes. "Yes. Though I can never again trust him fully as I did, if he were to show true remorse for his actions and ask for forgiveness, I would give it with joy. But I cannot." One final tear escaped before she turned her face to stone. "He is dead, and I will never have the chance you do now. I can only wonder if it ever would have come, under different circumstances."

"I'm so sorry, Star," he began, but was stilled by her fingers on his arm.

"No, friend Cyborg, you have nothing for which you should apologize. I only hope that my story will give you a new perspective on forgiveness, before it is too late for you as well."

Victor shifted, emotions warring inside him. "I can't promise that, little lady, but I do promise you that I'll think long and hard about it, and I'll remember what you've said."

The Tamaranean gave him a tiny smile. "I thank you, my friend."

"No, Starfire... thank you." He seized her in a hug whose force rivaled one of her own, and it warmed his soul to feel it returned in kind.

**AN:** Paremiology is a minor hobby of mine. Proverbs from other cultures and languages are absolutely fascinating, especially when they invite comparison to familiar sayings.

Also, I'm not going to go into anyone's history too thoroughly in this story, as you might have noticed. I'm not a fan of huge expository chunks, and to put it in dialogue is cheap and unwieldy. The information is out there, and I'm more than happy to point you to it, but here's not the place to retell stories that others have told far better.


	5. Empathy, Apples, and Oranges

**Chapter 5: Empathy, Apples, and Oranges**

It was with more than a little trepidation that Cyborg knocked on Raven's door. She had left a note on his desk to meet her in her room when he was ready to talk, but an invitation didn't do much to make it easier. On the bright side, she would most likely be a balancing voice in the opposite direction after Beast Boy and Starfire's wholesale endorsement of forgiveness.

"Enter." The voice behind the door was muffled, but the enunciation left no room for confusion.

As the door slid open, Victor hesitated at the threshold. Though he'd been in Raven's room on a few occasions, invading her sanctuary was still an intimidating prospect.

"Come in and close the door. Quickly." Raven's voice came from the bed, where she sat in the lotus position. There was an odd strain on her features, and a single tear trickled down her left cheek.

As the door slid shut, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "That's marginally better," she said. "I need to look into stronger shielding for this room."

Cyborg cocked his head in confusion. "Raven, are you..."

"Emotional feedback. One of the more unpleasant parts of being an empath." She wiped the tear away with an impassive hand.

Victor cringed. "Sorry. I'll try to keep a lid on my—"

"Not you," she snapped. Placing two fingers on her temples, she gave him an apologetic glance. "Sorry. I'm a bit on edge. What I mean is, your own emotional turmoil is not insignificant, granted, but anger and betrayal are simple enough for me to deal with. I'd almost go so far as to call them old friends, given my heritage. On the other hand, the hornet's nests you stirred up in Beast Boy's head, as well as Starfire's... very complex, conflicted, and above all, painful. Family is a sensitive subject for all of us."

A wave of shame hit Cyborg head on. He'd been so preoccupied with his own problems that he hadn't stopped to think about the toll it was taking on his friends. Starfire had been in obvious distress, true, but that look in Beast Boy's eyes...

"None of that." Raven's voice was firm. "This is difficult enough without your guilt muddying the waters. We're your friends, Victor, and we _want_ to help you. All we ask is that you give some thought to what we have to say when you make your decision."

"All right." The eldest Titan took a few calming breaths, trying to bring his emotions back under control.

He was rewarded with a grateful nod from Raven. "Better. Now... Once I heard enough of your conversation to determine its nature, I closed my door so as not to eavesdrop. I didn't hear what was said, but the emotions bled through my room's shielding." She looked at him intently, weighing her words as she spoke. "I'm aware of everything you're feeling, and I won't say it's not at least partly justified, but I think you should know that I sensed no deceit in your father's intentions. He really is confused, scared, guilt-ridden, and hoping for reconciliation."

Victor barely restrained a snort of contempt. "Bit late, don't you think?"

"Never." The empath's declaration was vehement. "He wants to set things right with you, but he's even more confused than you are as to how to go about doing so."

"And so he decides to let me play god? Put his life in _my_ hands so _I _can be the monster this time?" Cyborg was dimly aware that he was yelling, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Raven's brow furrowed. "So that's what that spike was about."

Confusion is one of the best ways to short-circuit anger, and this moment was no exception. "Huh?"

The purple-haired girl tapped her fingers together in contemplation. "I sensed something... odd... during your conversation. He was hoping to correct a mistake using what he knew was a warped sense of justice, but it was the only thing he could think of. And whatever it was, it made you go ballistic."

"Yeah. Ballistic is about right." Victor began pacing around the room, forgetting for a moment just whose room it was. "He wants me to choose whether he lives or dies. What the hell am I supposed to do with a choice like that? What would _you_ do?"

"Apples and oranges, Victor. You've met my father."

He stopped short and winced. "Sorry."

"It's fine. To answer your question, though..." Raven's head dropped. "I would kill my father. And then I would hate myself for the rest of eternity."

A near-tangible silence blanketed the room. Cyborg wished briefly, nonsensically, that he wore shirts, just so that he could tug on the collar. "Uhhh..."

"I suppose I should explain, shouldn't I?" With a visible effort, Raven summoned up an infinitesimal version of a rueful grin. Beast Boy was rubbing off on her. "Nothing your father ever did, could ever do, no matter how horrible, could possibly compare to what mine is still trying to do. I _have_ to fight him at every step, because to do otherwise means the destruction of this world and as many others as he can reach. I know I'm just a tool to him, but even so..." She drew a shaky breath. "Every time I hear that voice whispering in my head, every time he comes to me in a dream, no matter how hard I try to deny it, there's a part of me that wants to give in. For a long time, I thought it was my demon half, but that's not the case. Simply put, he will always be my father, and there will always be a part of me that loves him and wants to please him... make him proud of me. And I can never, ever do that; not because I'm incapable, but because the cost is too high." She tilted her head back, fighting to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling over. She failed, and wiped at her face as she looked back at Victor. "So, you'll have to forgive me for thinking you're a bit selfish for not wanting to accept your father's genuine offer of reconciliation."

Cyborg cringed under the weight of her words. He wanted to crawl into a hole and not come out for a long time.

With a long sigh, Raven shook her head, and the atmosphere of the room lightened somewhat. "Sorry, Victor. I didn't mean to get so... whatever you might call it. As you're making your decision, just please don't take for granted that you have a father who honestly wants a relationship with you, and that you _can_ have a relationship like that."

He nodded, lips in a tight line. "All right. I'll do my best, Raven. There's part of me that knows I'm being selfish, but... it's still hard, y'know?"

The girl gave him a sympathetic look. "I know, Victor. The past is never easy to bury. Whatever your decision, I hope it brings you happiness."

"Thanks, Raven. Really." He stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

It was more than a small shock when Raven stood and opened her arms. "Oh, come here, you big doofus."

The hug was brief, a bit stiff, and a little off-putting. In short, it was a Raven hug, and therefore a thing to be treasured. Cyborg immediately filed the memory away in the ever-growing folder he kept under Family.

He felt a brief pang of regret that this modification had come so late; he would have liked to include some happy memories with his father.


	6. Litmus

**Chapter 6: Litmus**

The door to Robin's office was open, paperwork pushed aside for the moment. As Cyborg raised his hand to knock, a voice stopped him.

"Come in, Cyborg."

The gigantic young man lowered his hand, feeling inexplicably silly, and entered.

"Sit." Robin indicated a chair opposite his own.

"I take it you've been waiting for this?" Victor's voice was carefully level as he took a seat, but there was a hint of strain.

"Yup. I've been up since the perimeter alert went off. When I saw on the cameras who it was, I figured you'd prefer to talk with some degree of privacy. As for the conversation we'll be having... I heard from Beast Boy and Starfire. Figured you'd be making the full rounds eventually."

"So then we can cut to the chase. Yes, no, reasoning?"

Robin held up a gloved hand. "That's not going to help you; not really. What I have in mind is uncomfortable, but it should help clarify your own opinions and help you decide for yourself."

Cyborg's mouth twisted as he chewed on his lower lip. "All right," he said after a brief pause. "Shoot."

Steepling his fingers, Robin looked over his fingertips. "Ultimate litmus test for decision making: Batman's twist on the Socratic method. Put aside everything everyone's said for a minute and answer some questions for me."

"Oh, this is going to suck." Victor put his head in one hand.

"Yes, it is." After a quick sympathetic glance, Robin hardened his features and stood. "First question. Why did you break off contact with your father?"

This drew a snort from the taller man. "What, you mean _besides _the fact that he turned me into a freak?"

"Let's explore that for a minute. What was the rationale he gave for his actions?"

"He says it was to save my life, but that's bullshit."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he could have saved my life without tossing in every single gadget S.T.A.R. was testing for the Department of Defense too!" Victor realized with some surprise that he was on his feet and yelling. With a deep breath, he sat down again. "I didn't want to be a walking weapon."

Robin tilted his head. "Have you ever talked with him about why he did that? Rational conversation, not a shouting match."

Victor looked down at one gigantic foot. "Well, no. Didn't really get a chance before I split."

"Now you have a chance. Getting an answer from him should at least bring you some peace of mind one way or another on this particular issue. Next question: why did you leave before you got answers? Be honest."

"I... I mean, I was mad and hurting and didn't really want to listen to much of anything he had to say right then... so I just left."

A quick nod from Robin. "This next question is unpleasant, but answer anyway. How much of that do you think was actually justifiable anger at him, and how much was misplaced grief over losing your chance at a normal life?"

Victor's eyes widened, and he took several seconds to collect his thoughts. "Uhhh... that's really hard to say, Rob. I would guess probably a whole lot of the second one."

"Do you blame him for your mother's death?"

That stopped Cyborg cold. "I... don't know." He swallowed. "I mean... he was there in the lab with her, it was his experiment, but... was he ultimately responsible? Probably not. But every time I've started to really think about all that, it hurts too much and I stop. I know it's a lame excuse, but it's true."

"Think about it. Next and possibly last question. Apart from the things we've discussed, do you have anything else that bothers you about your relationship with your father?"

"I guess sort of, but nothing major except one thing. I mean, he was never really that much of a hands-on kind of dad. He was always too busy with his projects to make time for me, but I can understand that now, I guess. I have a little bit of the same streak in me, so it's not totally fair to blame him for that. But..." Victor's hands flailed in the air, trying to pull words from the empty space. "It's just that the way he's going about this now is just so... horrendously manipulative. Putting the decision on me if he lives or dies... that's wrong on so many levels."

Robin nodded. "So it looks like you have one major question for him, one for yourself, and one trespass to overlook if you can. Now you have to get all the information, and make your decision based off of that."

Cyborg gawked at the team leader. "That's it? No final recommendation or deduction after the Bat Test of Moral Certainty?"

A quick shake of his head. "There's still missing information, and you don't really need any opinion other than your own. This isn't a majority rule thing."

"And if it were up to you? If you were in this position?"

"Barring something much more sinister than what I've heard about him so far, I would try to rebuild the bridge. Miscommunication and wounded pride aren't good reasons to go without a father."

Victor sighed. "Great. So it's unanimous." He rose to leave.

Robin stilled him with a hand on his metal shoulder. "Doesn't matter if Congress weighs in on it. It's your decision. Get your answers, think about it, and do what feels right from there."

A nod and quick thanks, and Cyborg was out the door. A moment later, though, he stuck his head back in. "Hey Robin?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you ever do that test on yourself for why you don't talk to Batman?"

The Boy Wonder was at a loss for words.

**AN:** I'm playing matchmaker with show continuity, Teen Titans GO! comics, and the regular comic universe. Sometimes it takes a bit of fudging. Victor's mother was part of the operation after his car accident in GO, but she was dead by the events of The End. Hence, I'm assuming that the S.T.A.R. Labs accident that killed her and birthed the comic continuity Cyborg still occurred, but without Victor present.


	7. Sunset

**Chapter 7: Sunset**

The hotel was cheap, no-frills. The one luxury it could boast was a view of the park and Titan Tower. Still, it wasn't a horrible place to watch the sunset if you were into that sort of thing.

Cyborg wished he could say he didn't know how he had ended up sitting on the creaky bed with the floral-print comforter. The computer in his brain had tracked every moment of his journey, recording it all through a red lens just as it had for years, right down to the horrible look of relief on his father's face when he opened that door with one brass number and two outlines where the others had hung.

He wasn't supposed to look so goddamn grateful and teary-eyed, not when Victor hadn't even said or done anything yet.

The two of them had been sitting on the bed, looking out the window, not knowing what to say, for the past ten minutes.

"I have a question for you," Victor finally managed to say, wincing as the words came out far too loud for the tiny room. "There's something I still can't really understand," he continued at a more reasonable volume. "Are you willing to answer honestly?"

Silas nodded, but didn't speak. Fear and hope warred in his eyes, making them shine in the light of the sunset.

Cyborg took a deep breath and took the plunge. "Why did you make me like this? I can understand keeping me alive, but all these weapons and extra things... what reason could you possibly have had for giving a teenage kid a cannon for an arm?"

Running both hands up his face and over his head, Silas settled with his hands on the back of his neck. "I... well, it sounds absurd, but as we were in the O.R., I had a vision of the old black-and-white Frankenstein movie. Villagers with pitchforks and torches, the bit with the windmill. And it terrified me. It's not how I saw what I was doing; you're my son, and you could never be a monster in my eyes. But other people are a different story. So I added one or two mechanisms for self-defense. And then a few to make your life easier, things I wished I could have had for myself. After that, I suppose I just got carried away with it. Your mother tried to be the voice of reason, but... well... you know how I get when I'm working on a project."

Victor searched for some sort of response, some step towards establishing common ground. "Me too," he said after a three-second eternity.

His father nodded, grateful, before continuing. "Afterwards, I worried whether I had done the right thing. I almost went back and pulled out all the nonessential systems, but I thought I'd let you decide what to keep when you woke up. And... we know how that went."

With a sigh, Victor nodded again. "I guess that makes sense." Glancing back and forth between his feet and the sunset, never looking at the shorter figure beside him, he moved on to his next subject. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for blowing up at you this morning. This was all just... so sudden."

"I have far more to apologize for than that, Victor," his father said. "I could have called and warned you I was coming. For that matter, I could have called anytime in the past several years. It's not like I didn't know where you were. When I made the decision to come, I could have thought more about what I was going to say and how it would have made you feel... but you know me." He gave an apologetic shrug. "Good with machines, not so good with people."

"Yeah, we both have a lot to make up for... which brings us to what happens now." Cyborg tried to swallow the lump of nerves that was trying to crawl out his throat. "I meant what I said about making your own decision. I don't want your life in my hands. I don't care about justice or whatever else you were trying to accomplish with that offer; trying to put that on my conscience is more unfair than anything you've ever done to me."

Swallowing, Silas managed to croak, "Victor—"

"Let me finish." Victor held up a hand, but his voice was soft. "Cybernetics or not, and to what extent, is up to you. But putting all that aside... I'd like to try and make this work between us. I want my dad back."

It took less than two seconds for Silas to wrap his arms around his son, and not much longer for Victor to free an arm and return the hug. Neither of them said anything about the tears that flowed down their faces.

In Cyborg's memory banks, a folder was opened, and a moment saved. After years of hurt and resentment, Silas Stone was finally Family.

**The End**

**AN:** Thank you all for bearing with me through this. The subject is intensely personal for many of us, and I hope my treatment of it has been satisfactory. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this piece, good or bad.


End file.
